


The Mourning After

by watcherofworlds



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 15:33:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7469142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watcherofworlds/pseuds/watcherofworlds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Howling Commandos return to camp the morning after their disastrous mission to capture Arnim Zola, and Rebecca receives the news of her brother's death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mourning After

**Author's Note:**

> I know I should be working on the next chapter of Bloody and Undaunted, but this fic wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. Comments are welcome and appreciated.

_ They’re here _ , Rebecca thought, hearing the rumble of a truck’s engine in the near distance, though she couldn’t have said how she knew it was the truck that was carrying the Howling Commandos back from their latest mission. The tramp of booted feet approaching the hospital tent made her pause in her work and cock her head, listening, counting sets of footsteps.

_ One two, three four, five...six _ , she thought, totalling them up in her head.  _ Wait. Six? That can’t be right. _ She stuck her head out of the hospital tent and watched the Commandos come toward her.

“One, two, three, four five, six,” she counted, out loud this time. When she reached six she dropped her hand and felt her heart sink right along with it.

_ Oh god no, _ she thought.  _ No, no, no. Please no. _ She charged out of the hospital tent toward Steve, who, as always, was at the head of the group and saw several of the Commandos flinch. With the worried look she was sure she had on her face she must have looked so much like her brother to them that for an instant it was like they were seeing his ghost.

“Tell me he’s in another truck,” she begged Steve, her voice quavering. “Tell me he got injured during the mission and had to stay behind in London. I don’t care. Just tell me anything but what I think is true.” Steve shook his head.

“I’m sorry Becky,” he said quietly, his baritone voice heavy and grave. “I-”

“No!” Rebecca said, cutting him off, her voice halfway between a scream and a desperate sob. “Don’t try to tell me you’re sorry. You don’t get that privilege! My brother is dead because of you!”

“Becky-”

“No!” Rebecca screamed again, slamming her fist against Steve’s chest. It made her hand sting, and it obviously hurt her more than it hurt him, but he nevertheless looked startled, as if striking him was the last thing he’d expected her to do. Feeling an odd sense of satisfaction, she did it again while continuing to yell at him, each of her statements punctuated by the dull  _ thwack _ of fists striking flesh- “This is your fault!”  _ Thwack.  _ “You knew what Jimmy would do if you got yourself into trouble, but you still weren’t careful enough to avoid it!”  _ Thwack. _ “If not for you, he’d still be alive!”  _ Thwack. _

She had nothing left to say to Steve, but she was still angry with him, so she went to hit him again. Up to this point he had tolerated her abuse, but this time he caught her wrist, stopping her cold. She tried to hit him with the other hand, but he grabbed that wrist too, holding her hands apart above her head.

“Let me go!” she screamed, kicking at him. “Damn you Steve! Let. Me. Go!”

“You don’t have to tell me that this was my fault Becky,” Steve whispered in her ear. “I know. Believe me, I know.” The grief in his voice was so deep and so raw that in an instant Rebecca’s anger evaporated. She collapsed against Steve, weeping bitterly. His arms went around her, hesitantly, as if he wasn’t sure if that was the proper thing to do, and he held her while she cried. After a while she became suddenly and acutely aware of the stares from the Commandos. She levered herself away from Steve and back into the hospital tent, still crying.

Hours later, she sat on the ground outside the hospital tent, feeling numb, heedless of the rain coming down around her or of the fact that the ground on which she sat was rapidly turning into mud. A pair of mud splattered red combat boots appeared in the periphery of her vision, and then Steve was sitting down beside her. He put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him, the way her brother might once have done, and the mental comparison brought fresh tears, even though she’d thought she was all cried out. Before long Steve was crying too, and they were both sobbing, leaning on each other, mourning together for the brother they had lost.

**Author's Note:**

> A note on names: "Becky" is what I imagine Bucky called his sister, and Steve picked it up from him. Also, I imagine that "Jimmy" is Rebecca's childhood nickname for her brother, one she never quite grew out of.


End file.
